Heather happily dug into her plate of food. “Ben is chasing the kids around, so I get a few minutes to actually sit down and eat. Will wonders never cease?”
Heather and Naomi began a debate about natural childbirth. “Listen, Naomi, I know you are trying to help Adrianna, but I have two kids. Drugs are a godsend.”
“I’m sure Adrianna will do what’s best for her and the baby.” Naomi winked at Adrianna as though the two were pulling one over on Heather. “Speaking of which!” Naomi rose from her chair and, raising her glass, accidentally submerged one of her long braids in her champagne. “I’d like to make a toast. To Adrianna and Owen, on the impending arrival of the fruit of their union!” Naomi removed her hair from her glass and took a long drink.
My parents and Josh made loving toasts, as did Owen’s father and Nana Sally, both of whom welcomed Adrianna to the family. Kitty made the best toast of which she was capable: none at all. I watched to make sure that Nelson was filming all of the speeches, as he was, probably because Robin stayed right by his side and kept muttering directions and scolding him for not following all of her orders. At one point, their bickering began to escalate, but Robin had the sense to shoo Nelson out of the tent to finish the spat.
I went back to the buffet table to help myself to the lamb. Then I set my plate down and filled a small bowl with the incredible roasted pumpkin stew. I took a spoonful of the stew. Heaven! Rich, gooey, and cheesy. As I ate, I walked slowly along the edge of the tent to survey the scene and fix it in my memory. As I was wondering whether Robin and Nelson would be able to resolve their differences for long enough to finish filming the wedding, I heard Nelson’s voice and then Robin’s. The two were no distance from me; only the fabric of the tent separated us.
“You’re getting the angles all wrong, Nelson, and—”
“I swear on my mother’s life, Robin, if you don’t shut up and let me record this thing how I want, I’ll blow your dirty little secret. How’d you like that, huh?”
“What are you talking about? You don’t know anything.” Robin was seething.
“Oh, yeah? I know about you and Leo Loverboy. So, now what do you have to say for yourself, Ms. Director? I bet a lot of people would be interested in that. You two have been going at it for months. And having him be the chosen shopper for the show was no accident. You set that whole thing up. So shut your trap about what I film.”
TWENTY-SEVEN
WHOA! The conversation stopped me in my tracks.
Robin and Nelson reappeared in the wedding tent, but I lingered at periphery of the crowd. Robin had been having an affair with Leo. Even though she had no garden, she had bought foxglove, which was not a houseplant. Because of the gardening film she’d made with my parents, she’d known of the nursery where she’d bought the plants and known of their toxicity. It was she who’d chosen Leo as the featured shopper; she’d engineered his participation and thus, of course, Francie’s. Once in the house with Francie, she’d poisoned food that Francie but not Leo would eat. Robin must have prepared the plants in a way that made it easy to slip the poison into the food that Josh had served to Francie. According to what I’d read about foxglove, every part of the plant was so toxic that the preparation would have required no skill. And if others, too, were poisoned? Robin hadn’t cared. If others got sick, or even if they died, so much the better! Francie’s death, instead of appearing to be a deliberate murder with Francie as the victim, would pass as an accident—in other words, exactly what the police officer saw it as when he arrived at the house. What’s more, after Francie’s death, it had been Robin who’d arranged to have me remove Francie’s clothing from the house; Robin had used me to eradicate the traces of her lover’s ex-wife.
Had Leo known of Robin’s plan? Had he known that he’d be the Chefly Yours shopper and that Robin was going to poison his wife during the filming? Or had he realized only after Francie’s death that his lover had murdered his wife? Suddenly, my focus shifted to my own safety. As soon as Robin saw the wedding footage, she’d see and hear the exchange between Héctor and me that Digger had translated. She’d learn that I’d been interested in the purchase of foxglove and that Emilio’s cousin had identified her as the buyer. She’d immediately conclude that I was piecing together the elements of the murder.
But I couldn’t spoil Adrianna’s wedding reception. Despite Josh’s eccentric tuxedo, my father’s tar fiasco, Josh’s fistfight with Emilio, the consequent damage to the flowers, and Evan and Willie’s attempted shotgun prank, we had avoided ruinous catastrophes; the ceremony had been beautiful; Adrianna and Owen were now, in fact, married; the food was even more delicious than I’d expected; and the reception was lively and joyous. I would simply have to wait until the bride and groom had left for the evening before I called the police and told the entire story to a detective. Robin hadn’t yet seen the film and couldn’t watch it while Nelson was still shooting. Therefore, no one was in immediate danger. I retrieved my plate and returned to the table to finish dinner. Josh had vanished. In his place sat Kitty.
“You know, darling,” Kitty began, leaning in to speak to her daughter, “I talked to my friend Rhonda the other day. She wants a divorce, the poor thing. Horrid man she married, really, and I can’t blame her. But she says she’ll never leave him because he’s got all the money, and they don’t have a prenup. I guess you two won’t have that problem. You know, fighting over money. No need for a prenuptial agreement if there’s nothing to fight over!”
“Kitty, would you like anything else to eat?” I said in a panic.
“No, thank you, dear. I’m not even sure what half of the food is.”
Bringing up divorce and money at her daughter’s wedding was bad enough, but insulting Josh’s food? Now she had really crossed the line! I saw Ade inhale and exhale through her nose and will herself to ignore her mother.
As dinner wound down, coffee and dessert plates arrived on the buffet tables. Digger and Alfonso lined up row after row of martini glasses filled with a mixture of crumbled ladyfingers, limoncello, and mascarpone, and topped with fresh raspberries. The bright yellow of the lemon liqueur and the red of the berries looked cheerful and celebratory. As for the ladyfingers, I could eat those spongy delicacies by the dozen. In other words, the dessert was bound to be right up my gastronomic alley. A tray of figs poached in champagne, vanilla, cinnamon, and lemon zest arrived with a pitcher of cream. How was I going to make room for everything? Somehow or other, I’d find space.
“Oh, Chloe, look! Here come the cupcakes!” Adrianna pointed to one of the buffet tables.
Ade had decided that what she wanted instead of a typical wedding cake was a cupcake tower fashioned from Sprinkles brand cupcakes. Josh had ordered mixes in red velvet, dark chocolate, and vanilla and had baked a hundred and fifty cupcakes that he’d iced this morning and arranged in a tower. Josh and Héctor entered the tent, both supporting the tray of tiered cupcakes.
“How fun is this!” Ade said happily.
“This was the coolest idea, hon.” Owen rubbed his hands together. “Let’s go cut the cupcake, my blushing bride.”
“Cupcakes,” snorted Kitty. “Whoever heard of such a thing! Childish, I call it. How are they going to cut a cupcake?”
I rose from my chair. “With a knife.”
Nelson and Robin followed the couple to the buffet table. I kept a keen eye on Robin to make sure that she didn’t get close enough to sprinkle the Sprinkles with poison. The bride and groom choose one cupcake from the top of the tower and held the knife together as they split the cake in two. I cheered as Ade frosted Owen’s nose with her half and then awwwed as they shared a gooey kiss. I caught Robin forcing Nelson’s camera away from me and back onto Ade and Owen.
When the couple took their seats, Robin threw her hands on her hips. “Nelson, I’ve had it. You are totally incompetent! Give me the damn camera, Nelson! I mean it!”
“Yeah, right.” In showy defiance of Robin, Nelson slowly played the camera back and
forth over the crowd.
I felt certain that this time, Robin and Nelson wouldn’t take their fight outside, and I was equally sure that they wouldn’t make peace on their own. To prevent an ugly scene, I stepped in. “Stop it!” I ordered in an undertone. “Both of you! Come over here.” I herded the pair out of the tent and stopped just outside the entrance. I didn’t relish having to chat it up with Robin, but I had no choice; I couldn’t allow the two of them to make a spectacle of themselves at the reception. “What the heck is the problem now?”
Ignoring me, Robin resumed her attack on Nelson. “Get this straight. I am making this film. Me! I am in charge. It’s not about whatever pretty girl you happen to feel like looking at. I’m the producer and director. You’re just the cameraman. I’m the brain, you’re the eyes, and that’s all you are. You shoot what I tell you to. Got it?”
Nelson leaned forward. “Maybe the film was yours, but it’s mine now. And my film is much more interesting than yours would have been. I’m an artist, and you’re nothing but a third-rate, unoriginal, imitative, small-time hack!”
Robin laughed condescendingly. “You’re nothing but a technician. If you think that you are ever going to be a filmmaker, you’re dreaming. You don’t have the talent. As a cameraman, you’re barely adequate!”
“Oh, Robin.” Nelson spoke all too calmly. “I warned you. You have no idea what I have on film. I have so much! A great shot of you buying foxglove not too long ago. I bet you’d love that little sequence, my dear. It’s all right here, baby.” Nelson sneered and patted the camera that he held at his side. I had to wonder about his claim. Wouldn’t he have downloaded that footage?
But Robin failed to share my doubt. She made a mad grab for Nelson’s camera. He, however, held it in a firm grip. I was furious! Josh had been more than justified in punching Emilio, and he’d done it in the kitchen before the wedding, not just outside the tent during the reception. Now, I wasn’t about to tolerate a physical altercation
“Cut it out!” I demanded.
Robin drew her leg in and then swiftly kicked Nelson smack on the kneecap. Nelson yelled out in pain, and as he fell to the ground, Robin wrestled the camera from his hands. While Nelson was clutching his knee and swearing, Robin jabbed at the camera in what seemed to be an inept effort to locate the part that held the recording.
“You two are totally out of control!” I whispered angrily. “And don’t you dare ruin the wedding footage,” I warned.
“Stay out of this, Chloe. It has nothing to do with you.” Robin turned the camera upside down and began trying to pry out its innards.
Nelson snorted. “Actually, it has a lot to do with Chloe. Chloe was asking questions about—”
I cut him off. “There has to be a way to work this out.”
“Leave me alone!” Robin raised her voice. “Mind your own business, Chloe. And your boyfriend’s, too. I happen to know a lot more about Josh than you do, so maybe you should pay a little more attention to him and less to me.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked, completely confused and momentarily distracted. “What do you know about Josh?”
Robin halted her fiddling with the camera and looked smugly at me. “I know he’s not the chef at Simmer any longer. He quit. The new chef there is his supposed friend, Digger. Digger starts tomorrow. Marlee told me. You know how quickly restaurant gossip flies around.”
Robin had to be out of her mind. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Robin. Josh would have told me if he’d left Simmer. And there is no way Digger would take Josh’s job. It’s an unwritten rule that you don’t take your friend’s job, no matter what the restaurant.”
“How dumb can you be? You know these chefs. They all want to be stars. Digger wouldn’t hesitate to take a job on Newbury Street, even if it ticked off his good buddy. God, Chloe, you don’t know anything.” Robin laughed heartily.
Nelson stood up, his knee apparently not permanently damaged. “On the contrary. Chloe knows quite a bit. In fact, she knows everything she needs to about you, Robin. She knows about Francie. And the foxglove. She must be waiting for this wedding to be over to call the police. Isn’t that right, Chloe? Just wait until my movie hits the Internet.”
Robin’s face blanched.
I’d underestimated Nelson. All along, he’d known that Robin had killed Francie, whose agonizing death had registered on him as nothing more than a sort of twisted docudrama. As I was staring at Nelson, Robin, camera in hand, bolted toward the street and her car. Dammit! She was welcome to whatever evidence the camera held, which was not the only evidence of her guilt. Among other things, Héctor, Nelson, and I could testify. But that camera was valuable: it held the only recording of Adrianna’s wedding! And I was not about to let Robin destroy irreplaceable images so precious to my best friend. I took a few steps back and grabbed one of the shotguns that Evan and Willie had stashed in the plants by the entrance to the tent. I knew that those shotguns weren’t loaded, of course. But Robin didn’t share my knowledge.
I assumed my best gun-toting stance, or what I imagined that a gun-toting stance should be, and hollered at Robin. “Stop or I’ll shoot!” Those words from my mouth? Whoever would have thought?
A second later, I heard a shot and saw Robin fall to the ground, facedown. Blood quickly stained the back of her shirt. She lay still.
But I hadn’t fired the gun. I hadn’t so much as brushed the trigger with my finger.
I whipped around and saw Nelson with the second shotgun still aimed at the immobile Robin. Thank God I hadn’t accidentally pulled the trigger myself. Why were these guns loaded? Willie and Evan, I realized, hadn’t just intended to march in with the shotguns. They’d planned to discharge the weapons!
Guests began pouring out of the tent. “Call an ambulance!” someone shouted. “I’m an EMT. Get out of the way.”
A young man, a friend of Owen’s family, pushed his way through the crowd and knelt down next to Robin. I turned and stepped away. Almost everyone at the reception took out a cell phone and dialed for help.
“Baby?” My chef had materialized next to me. I almost drove my head into his chest.
“Josh. Where is Ade? More importantly right now, where the hell are Evan and Willie?” I was beyond furious; I was livid.
“They’re over there.” Josh gestured behind him. “What happened?”
As we wove our way through shocked guests, I did my best to explain how Robin had ended up with a bullet in her back. At the same second when I located Owen’s brothers, ambulances, fire trucks, and police cruisers began to arrive. I paid no attention to the emergency vehicles; rather, I concentrated on Evan and Willie, who at least had the minimal decency to look appalled at the consequence of their aborted and unfunny prank.
“What were you thinking?” I demanded. “Arriving at this wedding with shotguns was bad enough, but loaded shotguns? What if Heather’s kids had found them?”
Evan was the first to brave my wrath. “We were planning on firing a resounding volley into the air at the end of the wedding ceremony. It was going to be very dramatic.”
“Dramatic? You were going to shoot off guns in the tent? Endangering our lives? Not to mention puncturing the tent! You two are the stupidest, most—”
“Chloe, I need your help.” The voice was Adrianna’s.
I felt terrible. Poor Adrianna must be a wreck. This was supposed to have been the perfect day she’d dreamed of. And now this! To my surprise, however, Adrianna looked remarkably happy for someone whose wedding had just become a crime scene.
I put a hand on her arm and said, “I’m so sorry about this. About everything! What can I do to help you? This is just terrible. First Josh punched Emilio, and then the flowers got wrecked, and then . . . Well, it goes on and on.”
Adrianna spoke with unusual force. “Chloe, I need you to focus.” She grabbed my shoulders and squared me in front of her. “Chloe, my water broke.”
TWENTY-EIGHT
I stared
at Ade. “Your what did what?”
The exasperated bride put her hands on my cheeks and pulled my face an inch away from hers. “My water broke. Meaning, my water broke, and I’m going into labor!”
“What?” I practically hollered. “The baby is coming now? Oh, my God. Oh, my God.” I frantically looked around for I didn’t know what. Something! Should I find Ade’s hospital bag? Rush her to the hospital? And there was that pesky matter of the swarm of policemen roaming the grounds . . .
“Chloe, get me out of this dress before it’s ruined. And then you can go find Owen. Crap, I wanted to go to the Ritz tonight.” She scolded her belly. “You couldn’t have waited another twenty-four hours?”
I rushed Adrianna upstairs to the bathroom and helped her remove her dress before any icky things got on it. “Okay, you get changed. I’ll go grab one of those EMTs downstairs and find Owen.” I hung the wedding dress back in its garment bag and zipped it shut.
“You will do no such thing!” Ade glared at me. “If you tell those guys, they’ll send me to whatever hospital they want, and I want to go to Brigham and Women’s like I planned and have my own doctor. I know that I have to go soon since my water broke, but I doubt this baby is going to fall out of me in the next few minutes. Oh, and for Christ’s sake, don’t let my mother know what’s going on!”
“Gotcha!” I said. “I’m on it. Are you in pain? Do you need anything?”
“No, I’m okay for now, but I don’t expect that to last, so you better find Owen. And one more thing,” Ade started as she yanked a shirt over her head. “Care to explain the gunshots, screaming, and sirens downstairs?”
“Um, not really. Don’t worry about anything! It’s all under control. Gotta run!” I dashed out of the bathroom in search of Adrianna’s new husband.
I found Owen in the chaotic crowd outside. The groom was still tearing into his abashed-looking brothers for their outrageous behavior at his wedding. “Shotguns? I mean, come on!”
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